


Tiny Dancer

by justthehiddles



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Ballerina Reader, Charity Gala, F/M, Fluff, Love at First Sight, SO FLUFFY, Tom doesn't like the ballet, Tom is clumsy, tom in a suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 07:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20149909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: While Tom is in New York, Luke has arranged for him to attend a ballet gala for America Ballet Theatre.  Tom reluctantly attends and becomes enchanted by one of the soloists, the reader.  Will you reciprocate his feelings?





	Tiny Dancer

Tom rolled his eyes at Luke.

“Would you just listen to me for two seconds?” Tom snapped back.

Luke crossed his arms and stared Tom.

“I’m listening.”

“I know you are looking at for my best interests and my career, but I don’t have time to go any sort ABC party.” Tom waved his hands around for emphasis.

“Are you referring to the American Ballet Theatre? If so, the answer is you will make the time.”

“But the play…”

“This gala is on a Monday… the theater is dark that day. Besides, I thought you enjoyed dancing.” Luke shot back, smirking.

Tom threw his hands up in concession.

“Fine, but for the record, I like my kind of dancing not fancy ballet dancing.”

Luke walked away satisfied with the outcome of the conversation.

-

Tom enjoyed the performances much to his surprise. A solo for Romeo and Juliet piqued Tom’s interest in the program. Once the dance started, Tom couldn’t take his eyes of the dancer. He has seen more productions of Romeo and Juliet than he cared to count, but the dancer playing Juliet captured the emotion of the young Capulet in such an unexpected way. 

The program showed that all the dancers would be available to meet at the afterparty. The room was filled with a sea of chiffon and black ties, and Tom craned his neck to look above the heads of the crowd. He viewed people huddling around the principal dancers, clamoring for a few moments with the stars. He weaved his way through the bodies but did not spot her. Dejected, he turned to hit up the bar for a drink. He only made as far as one step before he stepped on someone’s foot.

“Ow!” 

“So sorry,” Tom mumbled as he looked up and met eyes with the dancer he had been looking for. 

Up close, you enchanted Tom even more than he expected. Tom began to sweat and pulled on the collar of his dress shirt.

“It’s okay, sir…” you glanced up and realized who stood before you, “holy shit! You’re Tom Hiddleston!”

Tom smiled.

“Guilty as charged. And again, sorry about your foot. I am sure they are worth a fortune.”

You laughed.

“I wish. The going rate for my feet is not what you would imagine.”

“Oh, I don’t accept that. You entranced me. That must be worth something.” Tom flashed one of his signature smiles.

You blushed at the compliment. Thoughts raced through your mind. They ranged from God he is handsome to Is he flirting with me? 

“Would you accompany me to the bar?” Tom asked, jostling you back to reality.

You glanced around. Part of your duties required you to make the rounds at the gala, chatting up patrons and donors. You rationalized the trip to the bar as circulating. You nodded and Tom extended his arm to you. 

Tom hooked your arm with his and navigated through the throngs of people with ease. He sidled up to the bar and order a whiskey for himself.

“And for you?”

“Just soda and cranberry juice. I’m working.”

Tom nodded and placed the order. Before long, the two of you exchanged life stories, family anecdotes, and more than a few laughs. Conversation flowed like two old friends catching up, and you wanted to linger in his company. A tap on your shoulder broke your bliss.

“Y/N, the donors want to see you,” another company member hissed at you.

“I am afraid I have monopolized your time. My apologies. Please. Go.” Tom nodded, waving you to take your leave.

You said a quick goodbye before your coworker dragged you back into the crowds. Tom watched as you disappeared. Although he already made the requisite appearance, he lingered, hoping for another chance to talk to you. He pulled his phone out and sent a message to Luke.

Thank you.

For what?

I will tell you in the morning.

-

The next several hours dragged by as you shuffled between conversations with various donors, directors, and choreographers. The whole event exhausted you. You never caught up with Tom again, and now the event ended with no Tom in sight. With a sigh, you pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped into the chilly New York air. 

“Hey.”

You pivoted to see Tom leaning against a column. 

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“About 30 minutes.” Tom responded, rubbing his arms to bring the blood flow back. “It was getting bloody cold.”

“Why in the hell would you wait for 30 minutes in the cold night air?”

Tom strode towards you, closing the distance in seconds.

“I didn’t get to give you a proper goodbye.”

Tom grinned as he lowered down and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. In shock, you stood there as he stepped back, looking at you for an answer or response.

“Did you just kiss me?” you whispered, not trusting your voice.

“Um..yes, I did. Is that a problem?” Tom asked, hope in his eyes.

“I’m not sure.”

Tom’s face fell.

“I need at least one more kiss to be sure.” you finished, grinning.

Tom’s face lit up as he grabbed you by the waist and you raised up to meet him. This time you reciprocated, throwing your arms around his neck. You felt lightheaded when the two of you parted.

“And?” Tom asked, continuing to hold you by the waist.

You placed a finger on your chin in mock contemplation. You searched his face before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek.

“I don’t expect this will be a problem.”

“Good. Because I plan on doing that often.” Tom quipped as he leads you towards a taxi pulling you close and interlacing his fingers with you.


End file.
